Always Is Not Forever (Breaking Myself - Part II)

59. The One Where I Have Everything I Want

(I can only think of this song for them, no matter what I do. Don't you agree?)

[ A L I N A ' S P O V ]

"I want to leave," I grumbled under my breath. The bright colors of the room disturbing my eyesight and I squeezed it shut. Everything was too bright here, the words, the walls, the décor, her face.

I hated bright.

"Sorry kiddo, you're stuck here with me for an hour," Dr. Sha replied, her hands folded in front of her, the usual page of hers set aside along with the pen when she stared at me. "Two weeks, Alina, we've been stuck here for that long."

"Can't you just tell my dad that I'm fine?" I snapped, the edginess getting to me. "We both won't be stuck here anymore."

"I'm sorry I'm not qualified to send my clients this way." Her calm voice was getting to my head, to everything. I wanted to leave this room. She asked things I didn't want to answer, she made the conflicts of my heart more conflicted. "When was the last time you cut?"

I stayed silent, staring at my converse shoes, the whiteness that covered it. How would blood look on it? Would it look the same like it looked on my palm, dripping down the fingers?

"One day or another you have to start answering me." I answered nothing. "Okay," She drawled out. "Let's talk about your writing. You like writing?" I picked at the edge of my top. "Alina, it would be easier to talk if you tell me things. I can help you."

"You're lying," I initiated the conversation. "Nobody can help me." I hoisted my face to hers, to see some of the relief coming to her from my reply. "Nobody helps."

"Why you think that?"

"Isn't it true?" I looked out the window, to the road that laid behind it, to the reality I had been trying to avoid. "Can I go? I have to study. My boards are approaching."

"There is a boy sitting outside this room." My throat squeezed. Even after my constant scolding and insistence to not come to my therapy sessions, he wouldn't listen. "Who is he?"

"Kabir."

"Who is he? A friend or?"

"He's my friend," I replied to her queries. "Before my boyfriend." I flashed my wrist to her. "He forced me to see you."

"And you don't like it?"

"I hate it," I gritted, stood up as the annoyance reached further. I couldn't be here anymore, examined as if I was a damaged product like there was something wrong with me, and let everyone know how much fucked I was up. "I want to leave."

"We still have twenty minutes left."

"I don't care!" I shouted, shocking both of us. "I want to go. Let me go!" Her lips parted with no answer. "I hate it here! Everywhere! I want to leave."

"To where?"

And I stopped.

"Alina, where you want to go? Home?"

"I don't have a home," My words fumbled, clutching my arms tightly to my chest. "I want to leave. Let me leave, please."

"But to where?" She enquired. "Where do you want to go?" She insisted, pushing me. "Tell me where you want to go. Every day you say you want to go but where? What place and to whom and-"

"I don't know." Tears bubbled at the edges of my eyes. "I just want to go." I sank down on my knees. "I feel like the world is enclosing and I'm under this surface. It's suffocating. Everyone is breathing on me, laughing at my back. I feel like." I stopped.